To Know The Mind
by CCroquette
Summary: High School AU, from the kink meme. When Berwald Oxenstierna changes cities (and schools) he's happy for the chance to start things over. There's just one problem: selective mutism means he can't speak to his classmates - and by the end of day one, he's already managed to frighten one of them away. Now what's he supposed to do?
1. Chapter 1

September 5. The first day of the rest of his life.

Berwald stood in the office at World Academy, paperwork in one hand, textbooks in the other, and tried to think positively. He was less than successful.

"It's a very good school," his mother had told him. "A lot of the other professors send their kids there. They're from all over, too! You could make a lot of interesting friends."

He had refrained from pointing out that she said that about every new school he went to. He'd believed her in third grade. By twelfth, he'd come to realize the truth.

Berwald Oxenstierna couldn't have friends.

He stopped his daydreaming as the school secretary turned away from her computer. Smiling, she handed him the last of his paperwork. "So, it looks like you're all set. You've only missed two days-" here, she looked at him expectantly.

"Trouble moving," he mumbled.

She made a sympathetic noise and went on, "- so it shouldn't be too hard to catch up. Here's your schedule. It's still first hour right now so it looks like you've got… history, room 204. If you don't show up on an attendance list just let the teacher know, okay?"

He really hoped he wouldn't have to. "'Kay."

"And here's a hall pass. Welcome to World Academy!"

He tried to thank her, managed a nod, and then took the paper and fled.

* * *

He made it to room 204 easily, but hesitated at the door. If he went in now, everyone would stare at him. And ask questions. And he'd probably be disrupting the lesson, too. Maybe he should just stay outside and wait until his next class, and then he could just go in with everybody else and hope that maybe there were other new seniors, too, so he'd blend in.

That was a good idea.

"Oh! You must be the new student!"

Too late. A woman - presumably the teacher - had opened the door, and was looking at him with a cheerful grin. "Berwald, right?"

Close enough, especially considering he'd spent the last three years at his old school being known as 'Bernard.' He nodded.

"Great! I'm Miss Smith. Come on in!"

He stepped inside and held out the hall pass the secretary had given him, as his heart did its mightiest to beat its way out of his chest. As he looked out at the classroom, he did his best to be hopeful. He hadn't been very popular back home, but this time there was a chance to be different. To change. All he had to do was just…

The teacher smiled. "Would you like to tell us about yourself?"

_Speak._

It shouldn't be so hard. 'Hi, my name's Berwald, I was born in Sweden so that's why my name's weird, and I just moved here from Minnesota. I like sports.' Not rocket science, not Shakespeare, and yet, he looked at the two dozen faces in front of him and found that he still couldn't do it. He was just going say the wrong thing, he knew it, and they were all going to hate him…

He tried to force the words out. After the most awful ten seconds of his life, he got his mouth open just a fraction, and the words promptly died in his throat.

Everyone was staring. He felt like being sick.

_At least wave, idiot. Smile. Do __something__ so they don't think you're a freak._

But as their stares turned from interested to calculating, and he felt what hope he had slipping away, he found himself frozen.

"Berwald?" Miss Smith was looking at him, concerned.

He managed a minute shake of his head.

"That's okay, maybe later. Why don't you go take a seat?" She was still smiling at him, but it no longer reached her eyes.

Head down, he slunk to the empty desk in the back of the room, and sat down, defeated. He took out his notebook and pen, trying to hide the shaking of his hands. He wasn't stupid; he could see the looks the other students were giving each other, and the occasional glances back in his direction.

He'd just ruined everything again.

* * *

The rest of the day wasn't much better. World Academy was a small school, so he had the same group of people for nearly every class. Thankfully no other teacher asked him to talk about himself; all he had to do was confirm his name. Over the course of the morning he did manage to pick up the names of a few of his classmates - Al was the loud one, and there was Matthew who was also called Matt, and Matthias who refused to answer to anything except his given name.

He invariably sat at the back of the room between Matthias and a huge, Russian-sounding kid named Ivan, where they couldn't block anyone's view. The other two spent more of the morning looking at him - or giving each other stares that were quite obviously about him - than they did actually taking notes.

The only one not staring at him was the boy named Tino, but as he was situated directly in front of Berwald and thus couldn't look without attracting the teacher's attention, Berwald supposed that didn't mean much.

By lunchtime there were rumors. As he went to get his lunch out of his locker, he heard his classmates talking. He lingered, trying to look like he needed to need time to figure out the combination. What were they saying this time?

"Do you think there's something wrong with him?"

His fingers slipped on the dial.

"Nah, I mean, he got in here, right? He's gotta be pretty smart."

He stared at the bare metal shelves, pretending to look for something.

"I guess. I hope I don't get stuck working with him, though. He's creepy."

He took his lunch bag, locked the lock, and left.

* * *

He picked an empty table in the corner of the lunchroom, hopefully isolated enough that no one else would try to join him. Though if they _did_, maybe he could try to have a conversation and then this morning would just be something to look back on and laugh.

He picked at his lunch, not terribly hungry, and stopped when he caught sight of someone standing at the edge of the table. He looked up to see Tino standing there, cafeteria tray in hand, smiling at him.

At first he thought there must have been a mistake - but no, the table was against the wall. Tino was smiling at _him_. His heart leaped. Maybe… maybe it would be okay, maybe he could salvage everything. Maybe he could make a friend. He tried his best to smile back.

Tino's face fell, smile quickly replaced by a look that was more much familiar - fear.

No! That wasn't what he'd wanted. Berwald hurriedly turned his gaze away.

He tried to think of something to say, to drag the words out of his mouth and do something, _anything_to keep from pushing this one away too, but by the time he'd mustered the strength to make eye contact again Tino had already disappeared.

Berwald looked down at his lunch, even less hungry than before.

So much for turning over a new leaf.


	2. Chapter 2

When the school day finally ended Berwald walked home slowly, relieved to get away. The afternoon hadn't gone any differently from the morning. His arrival had meant an odd number of students in the class, so in Physics he'd had to work without a lab partner, and in gym class he'd been stuck playing tennis against the teacher. At least in Literature all he'd had to do was sit quietly and look at a book - and pretend he couldn't feel everybody else staring at him.

He stepped into the small apartment, noting with some happiness that it was empty. If his mother were here, she'd bother him about how school went, and he didn't particularly feel like having _that_ conversation just yet. Glad to be alone, he cracked open a textbook and started on his physics homework. When 7 PM rolled around and his mother still wasn't home, he set about to cooking dinner. She must have stayed late - she did that, sometimes, staying on campus to do research, although he couldn't imagine what project she'd have set up already.

He'd just finished washing up and sat down with a book - no cable or internet yet - when she walked through the door.

"So, how was your first day?" she asked, voice deceptively cheerful. Years of experience had shown him where this conversation would be going.

He turned a page, feigning indifference. "Fine."

"Make any friends?" ...and there it was.

He said nothing. She sighed, heavily. "Did you even try?"

He snapped the book shut. "'M tired. Good night."

* * *

The next day brought even more difficulties.

Aside from the glances and the occasional whispered comment, courtesy of his classmates, the teacher had called on him in math class and though he knew the answer, he hadn't been able to speak, though he'd tried. At least she'd only let him sit there in silence for a few seconds before assuming that he simply didn't know it and called on someone else instead. He supposed now everyone would think he was stupid _and_ weird.

Still reeling from that when the bell rang, he headed to the lunchroom and picked the same isolated table he had yesterday. Unfortunately, it didn't stay isolated for long.

The table skidded several inches to the left as someone - Al, he realized - half-crashed, half-slid into the seat across from him. He seemed to have done it intentionally, and fixed Berwald with a grin. "Hey, so what's with you, anyway?"

Behind him, Berwald could see his other classmates watching. He tried to say something, but yet again his voice betrayed him.

Unperturbed, Al continued on. "You just moved here, right? That's pretty cool. Are you just quiet, or don't you ever talk?"

There wasn't any malice in his voice - it sounded like he genuinely wanted to know - but that didn't help the matter any. Berwald looked away, and after a few agonizing moments managed to answer with a shake of his head - which Al didn't see, as Ivan had sprawled into the next seat over.

"I think that he has been brain-damaged," Ivan announced.

Berwald frowned. He knew what Ivan was up to - trying to provoke him into saying something. He always hated it when people did that. He glared. Ivan grinned.

"Shut up, man!" Al hissed, smacking him on the arm. "You don't _say _stuff like that!"

"Why not?"

As they argued, Berwald stared down at his sandwich, not hungry in the slightest. Maybe he should just stop bringing lunch.

* * *

By the end of the month he'd more or less become part of the scenery. After a few more unsuccessful attempts at conversation, his fellow students had learned not to talk to him, a practice that quickly expanded into not looking at him, as well. He'd ceased to become something interesting and had just become 'that one creepy kid in the corner.'

Ivan, for one, seemed extremely pleased with this development. Having someone creepier around than he was had moved him up on the social ladder.

Outside of school he had managed to get a job shelving books at the local library, where the supervisor saw his introversion as an asset, since he couldn't socialize on the job, even if he wanted to. In the absence of friendship, Berwald figured he might as well do something constructive with his free time.

He'd just started to settle into this routine when it all changed. The day had started normally enough - normal for him, anyway - and he'd spent his morning classes and his lunch period in silence.

Then came gym class.

The weather had turned out surprisingly mild for early fall, and the teacher had had a lot of paperwork to catch up on, so he'd turned them loose on the track with instructions to run ten laps and "I don't care what you do then, but no smoking." He was currently seated near the top of the bleachers with a binder full of papers, and ten minutes left until the class ended. Most of the students had finished running, though Al continued doing extra laps for the exercise.

Berwald, laps long over, lingered on the fringes of the group near the bleachers, as everyone else stood and talked. He half-watched them, not really paying attention, until something caught his eye. Ivan and Tino, apart from the rest.

They were standing at the other end of the bleachers, all alone, and talking, though they were standing awfully close together - not by choice, if the look on Tino's face meant anything. Berwald couldn't hear what Ivan was saying, but he could easily see that Tino didn't like it. At all.

Tino had smiled at him once.

Berwald strolled up to them, catching the end of a conversation as he did -

"-so why not?" Ivan sounded pleasant enough, but it only seemed to bother Tino more. He stood, arms crossed, looking away.

"I said _no_."

Ivan grabbed his arm, and Tino definitely didn't like that. He tried to twist away, and Berwald decided that whatever was happening here, it had gone on long enough.

As casually as he could, Berwald reached out, and tapped Ivan on the shoulder.

Ivan turned around to look at him, the smile on his face not quite matching his narrowed eyes. "Have you got a problem?"

Yes, actually he did. He glared.

The smile on Ivan's face grew, and this time it was real. "What are you going to do about it?"

That was easy. He answered with a shove.

Ivan stumbled back, laughed, and swung a fist at him. Berwald dodged it, and swung back, and soon they were into it, punching and grappling. For all his size, Berwald didn't have much experience, but he managed to land a few blows before the teacher pulled him away. Al had grabbed Ivan, who was still laughing,

He noticed, dismayed, that the entire class seemed to have gathered around them, and with a sinking feeling in his stomach realized that no matter how badly he'd screwed things up before, he'd definitely just managed to make them worse.

* * *

The trip to the principal's office was uneventful, at least. She called him in first, while Ivan and their teacher waited outside. Ivan hadn't stopped smirking at him, but to his surprise instead of annoyance he found that all he could feel was embarrassment. Everyone's attention on him, and for _that_…

He felt sick.

"Have a seat." The principal sat behind her desk, hands folded, mouth set in a severe line. She looked like she could be friendly, given the chance, but she definitely wasn't friendly-looking now. He sat.

"Do you want to explain what happened?"

"No," he whispered. He barely understood himself why he'd done it.

She sighed. "Your behavior so far has been exemplary, and your records from your old school don't indicate that this is a habit of yours. Why did you do it?"

He stared down at the desk, but when it was clear the principal wasn't going to let him get away with being silent - and he didn't want silence to be mistaken for defiance - he managed to say, "He was botherin' someone."

"Be that as it may, we don't tolerate that sort of thing here. You've got words. Use them."

He would have laughed at the irony if he weren't so ashamed of himself. He nodded, instead.

"Now, you seem like a smart kid. Because this is your first offense, and because you're new here, I'm going to let you off easy. I have called your mother and you'll serve one hour detention this afternoon in room 105, starting at 3:30. If you do this again, expect to be suspended. Any questions?"

He shook his head.

* * *

Literature class had already started by the time he got back. He took a seat, keenly aware of everyone's eyes on him - everyone, he realized except Ivan, who wasn't back yet, and Tino, who was staring down at his desk, looking miserable. The embarrassment hit him all over again, and Berwald looked down at the floor, and took out his book, trying to use it to shield himself from some of the glances.

It wasn't until class was over that he fully realized the impact of what he'd done. As he was gathering his things, he could hear everyone starting to talk. A lot of it was fairly straightforward - "Did you see the fight?" - but then -

"You know he's not from here, right? I heard he used to live in Europe but then he got deported 'cause he _killed_ someone!"

What? That was just ridiculous. He turned to look at the gossiper - Feliks? Was that his name? - who turned red and quickly ducked away, making a noise that sounded an awful lot like "eep."

Great.

* * *

Detention could have been worse. The rumors had apparently spread to the rest of the school, because upon seeing him in the room, the other detention students very carefully picked seats that were far away from his, but, as they all had to sit in silence, there was no chance for further gossiping.

When the hour was up he was the first out the door, not wanting to hear what else the rumor mill had come up with. Berwald walked home slowly, though, trying to put off the inevitable conversation with his mother, who definitely wouldn't be happy. He took a detour through the park that stood next to the school grounds, and had just reached the edge of that when he heard footsteps coming up behind him, quickly.

He turned around and almost crashed into Tino, who'd been running towards him. Tino just barely managed to avoid hitting him, and quickly backed away, wide-eyed. He must have come from sports practice, Berwald guessed, because he had a bundle of clothes under his arm.

Surprised, Berwald looked down at him, and tried his best to say _something_, but couldn't make his throat work. Tino stared up at him for a few moments, apparently having the same problem, until he began hesitantly,

"I just wanted to say - I - um -"

Berwald's heart leaped. He didn't sound angry. Maybe everything would work out all right after all.

"Um, I - I -" He bit his lip. "I just - "

Berwald tried again to speak - heck, even 'You what?' had to be better than nothing at this point - but it only seemed to make Tino more agitated.

His eyes grew wider, and Berwald saw him swallow once, nervous. "Um -" he began again, and closed his eyes, as though he was waiting for something horrible to happen.

Berwald, at a loss for what to do, could only stare at him, and then Tino opened his eyes, and shook his head, and before Berwald could react he'd turned and sprinted off, leaving him all alone.

Berwald stood frozen for a moment, heart pounding, and then noticed something shiny on the pavement. He stooped, and picked it up - it was Tino's necklace, the one he always wore. It must have fallen when he'd run.

Tino wasn't that far away. He could bring it back to him and then Tino wouldn't be scared of him anymore, and then maybe he could say whatever it was he'd wanted to tell him earlier, and everything would be fine.

He could see him, at the other edge of the park. All he had to do was call out to him, and he would stop running. He tried.

Nothing. He took a deep breath, summoned all his effort, and tried again.

"Wait!" he finally managed to say, but Tino was already gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Berwald made his way home with a heavy heart. His mood didn't improve when he arrived back at their building and saw his mother's car parked out front, which definitely meant trouble - little else could tear her away from her research. He dragged his feet as he walked up the steps, not looking forward to what awaited him inside.

For a split second he considered just not going in, but he knew that would only make it worse - and where else would he go, anyway? It was better, he supposed, to just get it over with. He took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped in.

He'd been correct. She leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, waiting for him. Definitely not happy.

"Hi," he mumbled.

She may have been a head shorter than he was, but the look on her face made him feel about two inches tall. She watched him enter, and waited until it was quite plain that he was waiting for her to speak, first, and finally said, "Do you want to explain to me why I got a call this afternoon that said you'd been fighting?"

He shrugged. It seemed pretty self-evident.

"_Fighting_, Berwald? Really? It's not enough to be shy, you have to be antisocial now, too?"

He shrugged again, and fixed his eyes on the floor. "He was botherin' someone."

"So you hit him."

"Nah. Pushed 'im. He hit me."

She sighed deeply, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Of course he did. God, you don't go out, so I can't even ground you. What the hell am I supposed to do?"

He didn't have an answer to that, and kept staring down at the floor.

"Is this going to be a habit now? I have enough to worry about without you being added to the list. What would your father think?"

Berwald wouldn't know. He'd never met him.

Her voice softened. "Look, I know it's not easy switching schools, but you need to try to get along."

"Was tryin'," he muttered, gaze trained on his shoelaces.

"Try harder next time."

* * *

Berwald would have been lying if he said he was looking forward to school the next day. When his alarm clock went off, he rolled over, looked at it, and honestly considered skipping. He then wondered if one fight had been enough to turn him into a delinquent, because he'd never thought of doing that before.

The sight of Tino's necklace coiled up on the bedside table, where he'd placed it for safekeeping, changed his mind. He had to at least bring it back to him.

He got dressed and headed out, trying all the while to figure out how to give it back and feeling sick from nerves. He could put it on Tino's desk, he supposed, but then everyone would see him and they'd definitely find a way to talk about _that_. Or, he could give it him directly, but… he could feel himself turning red even thinking about it. There was no way. He'd have to talk to him in order to do that, and if he couldn't talk then it would just make him look even creepier.

He took a detour through the park as he walked, looking determinedly at the ground and trying to think. He'd made it nearly all the way to school and still hadn't decided what to do, and was so focused that he didn't see the person in his path until he'd already bumped into them.

He jumped back, blushing furiously and trying frantically to open his mouth and apologize -

- and froze, because he'd just knocked into Tino. Tino only stared, and almost before Berwald knew what he was doing he'd fished Tino's necklace out of his pocket and wordlessly held it out.

"Oh! Um, thanks." Tino eyed the dangling cross charm for a moment before taking it and slipping it over his head. He gave Berwald a look that Berwald couldn't quite identify, after a moment of awkward staring ran off, just as he had the day before, leaving Berwald all alone and thoroughly confused.

Berwald wasn't sure if what had just happened was a good thing or a bad thing, but he supposed it had gone a lot better than it could have.

* * *

Berwald was still trying to make sense of it at lunch, and sat picking nervously at his food when a shadow fell across the table. He looked up to see Tino smiling at him.

Well, that was definitely unexpected. He tried to smile back at him, and failed just as miserably as before, but this time instead of running away Tino spoke.

"Hey, is it okay if I sit here?"

Berwald sat there for a few seconds, unsure if he'd actually just heard what he thought he'd just heard, but when Tino kept smiling at him he nodded. Other students, he saw, were watching them, but Tino didn't seem to take any notice of it. He set his lunch tray down, and took a seat.

Instead of eating, though, Tino picked up his plastic fork and began fidgeting with it, bending the tines back and forth. "So, um, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I got kinda nervous and didn't know what to say, but I _wanted_ to say, um...thank you. For what you did."

Berwald shrugged, and looked down at his lunch, unsure whether it was more embarrassing to have a fight in front of everyone or to be thanked for it.

"What's wrong? Don't worry, he's been in a fight with everybody at least once. It just means you're one of us now!" He laughed weakly, but Berwald was too nervous to laugh in kind.

He tried a smile again, as Tino fidgeted more with his utensils and went on, "And, um, I didn't mean to run away from you yesterday or anything, it's just, you're so quiet and then I thought I must've made you angry 'cause you stuck up for me and I didn't even say thank you, so I was kinda scared to-"

He broke off suddenly, eyes wide. They were purple, Berwald noticed. He'd never seen purple eyes before. "Oh, no, I just totally said the wrong thing, didn't I? I knew I was gonna do that. Um-"

Actually, he kind of liked Tino's rambling, because it saved him from having to come up with something to say, but Tino had started to look scared again and that definitely wasn't good. Berwald shook his head.

"I didn't say the wrong thing? Or, I didn't make you angry?"

Both, really. Berwald shook his head again, and Tino grinned. "Well, that's a relief! … whichever it was. Um, anyway, thanks."

Had Berwald been able to muster the courage to speak, he would have said, 'You're welcome.'

* * *

Truth be told, eating lunch with Tino was a lot easier than Berwald had feared it would be, but after it was over with he didn't think that it would be any more than a one-time thing.

That is, until lunch the next day, when Tino greeted him with a friendly, "Hey," and took a seat across from him at the table.

Berwald tried to smile in response, though it was difficult. Tino, unfazed, began winding a piece of spaghetti around his fork and said, "So, are you ready for the physics test? Last year someone's batteries exploded during the lab part and they had to redo the whole thing."

Unsure how to answer, Berwald shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," said Tino, who seemed more focused on winding the spaghetti than eating it. The blob on the end of his fork was rapidly approaching the size of a baseball. "It probably won't be so bad. I just hope they don't make us wear lab goggles. Those things give me a headache."

Berwald made a face. Goggles never fit properly over his glasses.

"You too, huh?"

The rest of lunch continued in the same way, but Tino didn't seem to mind that he was doing all the talking. He asked questions, plenty of them, and Berwald answered as best he could without speaking. It was only when he packed up to head to class that he realized that he had actually managed to have a conversation.

* * *

They ate together every day for the next week, always with Tino talking and Berwald answering silently, until Friday, when Tino sat down and said,

"Can I ask you a question?"

Berwald nodded, though he wasn't sure why Tino needed to ask him _that_ when he'd been asking questions this whole time.

"Why don't you speak?"

Ah, that was why.

Before Berwald could try to think of a response, Tino had started fidgeting with his lunch tray, and went on, "Is it like, a medical thing? Did you hurt your throat or something?"

If only. Berwald shook his head and promptly regretted it, because he was sure that Tino would be annoyed, but instead Tino's face took on a thoughtful expression.

"Is it 'cause you're worried about your accent?" At Berwald's confused look, he elaborated, "Like, Minnesooooota?"

When Berwald didn't have an answer for him, he waved a hand and went on, "It's okay, you know. Matthew's from Canada and I guarantee you his is way worse. Ever since he punched Al in the face for calling him a hoser no one makes fun of that anymore."

Berwald stared at him, and stared at him, and stared at him, and finally blurted out, "Don't have an accent."

The words were as much a surprise to him as they were to Tino; he looked down at the table, hands trembling in shock.

Tino only grinned. "Then what's the problem?"

He shrugged, unable to find his voice again, but he was able to return the smile. They sat in companionable silence for the rest of the lunch hour, and Berwald wondered if, maybe, this was what it was like to have a friend.


	4. Chapter 4

A friend - maybe.

Berwald wasn't quite sure what to make of it, especially not now that he'd _said_ something. He spent the next morning thinking about it in between trying not to get called on, and as the morning ticked on, he realized wasn't sure if he should be looking forward to lunchtime, as he had been, or nervous. What if Tino expected him to start having, well, actual _conversations_?

He wouldn't even know what to talk about.

He was still worrying about it as he took a seat at the lunch table, but didn't have much of a chance to continue, as Tino made it through the lunch line in record time. Well, yesterday had been all right, so it couldn't hurt to give things a go. As Tino approached, Berwald looked up at him, and gave his best attempt at a smile.

"Hey," Tino said, as he set his tray on the table. He sat down, and said nothing else, but looked expectantly at Berwald.

It took him a moment to realize that he was supposed to answer, and several moments more before he could find his voice, but eventually he managed to return the greeting. "Hey."

Tino gave him a grin, and promptly began splitting his chicken nuggets in half. At Berwald's questioning look, he explained, "I got a bone in mine once. Better safe than sorry!" He wrinkled his nose briefly at a particularly suspect nugget, and then the smile resumed. "How's it going?"

Berwald knew he was definitely supposed to answer that one, but he froze before he could. What if he answered wrong? What if he was supposed to have some sort of explanation to go with it? He couldn't really think of anything interesting to say, and then Tino would get bored, and then he'd leave and never talk to him again.

Tino finished splitting the chicken pieces, and waited a moment more for a response before giving him a small shrug and starting to eat.

Berwald remained frozen. Tino didn't say anything, though, and didn't look annoyed with him, or upset, or anything other than patient. Berwald took a deep breath and finally dared to answer, "All right."

"Cool." He picked up one rather carbonized chicken nugget half, looked closely at it, and dunked it completely in ketchup before continuing, "So, I tried friending you on Facebook, but I couldn't find you."

Ah, and Berwald realized he was supposed to answer that too. He considered the question, and took a bite of sandwich before working up the nerve to answer, "Don' have one."

He'd tried making one, once, but the thought of all those _people_ there made him so nervous he couldn't go through with it. But - if Tino had tried to find him, and he wasn't there - was that bad? He looked down at the table, feigning interest in his partway-eaten sandwich. Was that boring? Or was it weird? Maybe it was weird. What if Tino decided he was too weird, and not worth the trouble?

Tino only shrugged, though, and began building a tower out of his vegetables. "Ah, okay. I only really use it for playing games anyways. You know, I know these are supposed to be carrots, but I'm not sure I believe it. How can carrots be _crusty_?"

They shared a grimace, and over the course of the lunch hour Berwald managed a few more answers, though eventually he got too nervous to continue speaking, and ended up reverting to silence again. Tino, as always, simply smiled at him and kept on talking.

* * *

It took another week, but Berwald finally managed to relax and make it all the way through the lunch hour without clamming up. He sat with his trusty sandwich, as across from him, Tino tackled a tray of chicken o's. The proper procedure for eating them seemed to involve shoving them whole into his mouth, an act which somehow didn't hinder his ability to make conversation.

Berwald watched in morbid fascination.

Tino seemed to know what he was thinking. "They're only edible as long as you can't see the insides. What happened to your arm?" he asked, eyeing the bright blue band-aid that was just visible under Berwald's shirtsleeve.

"Didn't have all my vaccines." The rules had been different in his last school district. At least the nurse had given him a choice between neon blue and Barbie princess.

Tino gave him what Berwald thought was a sympathetic wince, but it might have been directed at the chicken. "Ouch. They made me get a tetanus booster last year 'cause I sliced my hand open in art class. My arm hurt for a week, and it was right in the middle of hockey season, too."

Berwald saw the chance to properly _converse_ and seized it before his nerves could get in the way. "Y' play hockey?"

Berwald had played when he was younger. Interacting with his teammates had been...stressful… but he liked the sport itself.

Tino grinned. "Yeah! We have a hockey club here - the first meeting's next week, you should join! It's not very competitive or anything, but it's really fun!"

Tino looked so enthusiastic that he almost said "yes," right then and there, but then remembered that it involved people. Lots of people, whom he didn't know very well. And he hadn't played in a while, and he was a senior, so if he wasn't any good or didn't know how to interact with them it would look really bad, and….

Tino waved a hand. "Or not, that's fine too. Do you play any other sports?"

And he'd just said (or not-said) the wrong thing. How was he supposed to fix that? Berwald stared down at the table, trying to figure out how to answer.

"Football? Basketball?"

What if Tino thought he was antisocial? But now he couldn't just say yes, because that would be changing the subject and then he'd be antisocial _and_ rude.

"...rhythmic gymnastics?"

He looked up, and saw Tino grinning mischievously, and smiled in spite of himself. "Soccer."

"Really? Me too! We don't have a soccer club, which sucks, but I guess it could be worse. Al said that at the last school he went to they had compulsory line-dancing."

At least they didn't have that here. He didn't think cowboy boots would help his social standing any. Berwald made a face.

"Hey! You know, if you're not busy this afternoon, we could kick a soccer ball around. I've been waiting forever for someone to play with!"

He opened his mouth and started to decline - and then caught sight of the expression on Tino's face. He looked so hopeful that Berwald couldn't bring himself to say no. "Okay."

If possible, Tino's grin got even wider. "Awesome! I have archery club 'til four, but I'll meet you in the park after?"

Berwald nodded, and wondered what he'd gotten himself into.

* * *

Berwald watched the clock that afternoon, feeling just as jumpy as he had before lunch. When the final bell rang, he gathered his things and headed straight to the park, figuring he'd catch up on homework since he didn't have anywhere else to be.

There were a few picnic tables here and there, and he took a seat at one only to discover that whoever had built them clearly hadn't designed them for anyone taller than five foot five. He ended up sitting on the table, feet propped up on the seat and textbook in his lap, though he didn't manage to get much homework done. What if he did something stupid and then Tino decided he was too weird to hang around with and -

"Heads up!"

Berwald looked up just in time to catch the soccer ball before it hit him in the face, and caught sight of Tino, grinning. He managed a half-smile of his own, and jumped off the table to join him.

After a few minutes of kicking the ball around, Berwald wondered what he'd been so worried about. He didn't have to talk much, and he'd forgotten how fun it could be to just _do_ something, and not have to think about acting the right way, or saying the right things. It was hard to stop playing so that he could go to work.

When Tino said, "Same time tomorrow?" he almost immediately nodded yes.


	5. Chapter 5

'Same time tomorrow?' quickly turned into not only tomorrow, but the day after, and the day after that. By the next week they'd pretty well established a routine, and every afternoon saw Tino and Berwald down in the park, kicking a soccer ball, even if it was only for a few minutes.

As the weeks went by, Berwald actually found himself looking forward to school - or at least, to his lunch hour, and the hour after classes when he and Tino could play soccer. The actual classes themselves were still tough to get through, though slowly getting better. The teachers called on him less frequently now, and the rumor mill had even died down, though that was most likely due to Tino. Berwald had overheard them talking to him, once, while waiting for Tino after school.

"So I totally saw you hanging around with that weird kid yesterday."

"His name's Berwald, and he's not weird. Just quiet."

"But he's so creepy! Doesn't it scare you?"

Tino had only laughed. "Nope."

He'd rounded the corner to find Berwald there, and met Berwald's uneasy grin with a smile of his own. "You ready?"

Berwald had been trying to summon the courage to say 'thank you,' but Tino chucked the soccer ball at him before he could, and that was that.

* * *

He was almost disappointed when Thanksgiving came around. Although the four-day weekend did give him a nice respite from worrying about school, it also meant that he was left all alone. The holiday itself was an extremely subdued affair. Since the campus where his mother taught was devoid of students, she'd decided to take advantage of the peace and quiet and throw herself into whatever project it was she was working on, without the interruption of having to stop and teach. She spent the long weekend in her lab; on Thursday Berwald made himself a turkey sandwich, watched the football game on TV, and went to bed far too early.

On Friday, with his homework done and himself completely bored out of his mind, he'd gone outside to kick around a soccer ball and discovered that now it was a lot less fun without a second person there, too.

When Monday finally came around, he found that he was actually looking forward to school - and lunchtime, and even trying to talk to Tino. For his part, Tino seemed glad to see him as well - he seemed especially cheerful at lunchtime, and smiled particularly wide, though maybe, Berwald thought, that was just wishful thinking on his part.

They played soccer that afternoon until their legs got tired, and then sat on the picnic table and hung out until it got dark out and Berwald figured he ought to go home and make dinner.

When Tino's eighteenth birthday arrived in early December, they had a pizza - half cheese for Berwald and half pineapple for Tino - delivered to the park, and stayed long after the sun went down and the cold settled in, kicking a soccer ball and watching as their breath formed clouds in the freezing air. As Berwald walked home afterward, he realized that he was happier than he'd ever been.

* * *

The feeling lasted precisely until Berwald walked through the door. Instead of the usual empty apartment, he found his mother sitting on the sofa, laptop in hand, surrounded by books and papers. When he entered, she didn't even look away from the screen, as she asked, "What are you doing here?"

He stood silent for a moment, wondering what was wrong. She wasn't normally home so early. "Don' work tonight."

"Look, the power went out on campus and I'm trying to finish writing this exam. Can you go someplace else for a while? I need to focus."

"Was jus' gonna do homework. 'll stay in my room." It wasn't as though he were typically disruptive, anyway - turning the pages of a book was as loud as he got. He took off his jacket, and dropped his backpack by the door.

She frowned. "Can't you go out with your friends or something? It's Friday. I can't think with you around."

"No."

The only person he even sort of knew was Tino, and even then, they'd already spent all afternoon together, so Tino was probably tired of hanging around with him, and Berwald didn't know how to contact him outside of school, even if he wanted to - and it was his _birthday_, so he was probably already busy and had much better things to do.

The frown deepened, and she finally looked over at him. "What?"

"Don' have anyone to go out with."

"You really don't have any friends? Really?"

He said nothing.

"Oh, for god's sakes, you're almost eighteen! What are you going to do in the real world? You need to grow up."

"Been trying." Couldn't she see that? He'd thought he was doing well, but… maybe he wasn't. Maybe he really was no good at this. Maybe he wasn't supposed to have friends.

"Oh, for - it's always _trying_ with you. Look, it's not that damn hard! Go out and make some friends or - or go get drunk or something! Act like a normal kid for once!" She ran a hand through her hair. "God, why do you always have to do this? I can't deal with you right now."

He looked away, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Even his mother didn't want to be around him.

With a sigh, she turned back to her work, glaring at the screen. "Just get out."

What else was there to do?

"'Kay," he said, and grabbed his coat.


	6. Chapter 6

Berwald wandered aimlessly for a bit, with no idea where to go. He thought of the library, but they closed early on Fridays, and there really was no other place for him to be. Out of options, he ended up back at the park, sitting on the picnic table, head in his hands.

She was right, of course.

He had to try harder - but it wasn't that simple, didn't she understand? It wasn't as though he wanted to be this way; it just _happened,_ and it wasn't possible for him to control it. That was why he wasn't normal. That was why he had no friends -

- except Tino.

Tino, who was patient and who put up with him and who was far nicer to him than he deserved. And it wasn't fair, was it, making Tino put up with all that? Making him drag conversations out of him and socialize with him even though Tino had plenty of friends who would be much more fun to be around. It wasn't fair to him at all - but what was there to do? He'd tried to change himself and couldn't, not really. Maybe Tino was only his friend because he felt bad for him.

He should tell him he didn't have to do that. It would be okay.

Tino had better things to do than hang around with him.

"Hey!" Berwald was so focused on his thoughts that the shout made him jump, and when he looked up he saw Tino, at the edge of the park. He gave a small wave, and started jogging toward him. Berwald's stomach twisted - he liked seeing Tino, but right now he didn't know what to do, and if he said the wrong thing…

He tried to answer and found he couldn't - but he'd never been able to shout, and Tino didn't seem to mind. He stopped about twenty feet away from the picnic table, and dropped into a crouch. Berwald almost asked what he was doing, but stopped himself, because then Tino would ask what _he _was doing here and he didn't know what to say.

"I lost my keys," Tino called, running his fingers through the grass. "I think I dropped them while we were playing soccer. Ugh, I should have brought a flashlight or something… "

Berwald watched for a moment as Tino searched, and was about to get up and join him when Tino jumped back up.

"Found 'em!" He grinned. "So, what brings you back here? Did you lose your keys, too?"

Berwald froze. He couldn't tell him - that wasn't right; he couldn't just dump his problems on someone like that. No need to make Tino's night depressing, too. But he didn't know what to say, and found himself just staring, mouth paralyzed.

"Berwald?" The smile was gone from Tino's face. "Are you okay?"

No. Yes. He tried to say both of them at the same time and ended up making no sound at all, and he'd already made a mess of things because now Tino was looking worried. He felt sick.

"Hey," Tino said more softly, and put a hand on Berwald's arm as he climbed up to sit beside him. "What's wrong?"

His heart raced. He needed to answer, but he couldn't even open his mouth. The more he tried, the more stubborn his throat became.

"Can't talk?"

He shook his head.

"Hmm." Tino looked away from him, staring out at the trees. After a few minutes of silence he said, "It seems kind of cold to just be sitting out here, you know."

Berwald looked down at his knees and finally, _finally_ the words broke free from his mouth, so mumbled he barely understood them himself. "Had a fight."

Should he have said that? It wasn't nice to get Tino involved in his problems. But Tino was worried - and it wasn't fair to make him worry like that. With his voice acting almost of its own accord, Berwald continued, "Can't go home."

"No?"

At least that wasn't hard to answer. "No."

They sat in silence for a bit, and he decided to just come out and say it - he might as well, he figured, since Tino was here. "Understand if you don't wanna be my friend anymore."

Tino laughed, and then caught a look at Berwald's face and stopped. "What? Why? 'Cause you had a fight and can't go home?"

"No." He looked away, and picked at a loose thread on his jeans. "'Cause… 'cause 'm not normal."

Tino laughed again at that, but it wasn't unfriendly. "No such thing as normal," he said, and moved his hand to Berwald's shoulder, where he gave a soft squeeze. Berwald wasn't sure how to react to that and just sat, frozen.

Tino seemed to think for a minute, and then stood up, and Berwald figured he was going to leave - and his heart fell a little, because he didn't want to lose the first friend he'd ever had - but then Tino held out a hand. "Come on."

He stared, confused, and Tino only smiled at him. "You're coming home with me."

When Berwald hesitated, Tino took his hand and pulled.


	7. Chapter 7

The brief walk to Tino's house was uneventful, though Berwald couldn't bring himself to say anything on the way. He looked at the ground as he walked, instead, and tried to calm his nerves. He'd never been to someone else's house before - what if he did something wrong? What if… what if other people were there? What if they tried to _talk_ to him?

He stuck his hands in his pockets so that Tino wouldn't notice them shaking.

Tino lived in an older house, not very big, and Berwald felt half-sick with nervousness as he followed him up the front steps. He froze as soon as he stepped inside, unsure of what to do. Tino didn't seem bothered by it, flicking on the lights and kicking off his shoes. Berwald followed suit.

He'd just finished that when he heard a clicking sound on the wooden floorboard and a fluffy white dog bounded into the hallway, tail wagging. It barked, once, and then ran up to him, jumping excitedly around his ankles.

Tino grinned. "Oh! She likes you! Um, you're not allergic to dogs, right?"

Berwald shook his head, and knelt down, giving the dog a pat behind the ears. She barked again, and licked his hand. "Hey, puppy," he whispered.

"I can hang your coat up," Tino said, and held out a hand. He nodded toward the dog. "She likes it when you scratch under her chin."

Okay. He could manage that. Berwald handed his jacket to Tino and and gave the dog a scratch. He was rewarded with a doggy smile so big he couldn't help but smile back. Maybe this wasn't so difficult, after all. " 'S her name?"

"Um…" Berwald looked up and to his surprise saw Tino blushing. "Hanatamago-chan."

At the inquiring look Berwald gave him, Tino turned even redder, and shrugged. "I, um, used to be really into Japanese cartoons."

Berwald quickly gave up on even trying to say the dog's name, and kept on petting her - she'd rolled over, now, demanding a belly rub - when a voice called out from somewhere in the rest of the house. "Tino? Is that you?"

"Yeah," Tino called back, and turned to Berwald with another embarrassed shrug. "Um, I should warn you, my mom's a little loud sometimes…"

Berwald didn't even have time to try to figure out what that meant before she walked into the entryway. She was shorter than Tino, even, and didn't look much like him, though they both had the same purple eyes. Upon catching sight of Berwald, she grinned. "Oh! You must be Berwald! I've heard so much about you! It's so nice to finally meet you!"

"Um, Mom…" Tino began.

Unsure of what to do, Berwald tried to smile and hoped it didn't look too unconvincing. She'd heard about him? What did _that_ mean? What was he supposed to say?

Thankfully, his silence didn't seem to bother her - she kept on talking as she pulled on a coat. "So Tino says you're new in school! Are you liking it so far? Tino had a little trouble adjusting at first, but then he got involved in sports and now he just loves it there!"

He couldn't unstick his mouth quickly enough to get a word in edgewise - even if he knew what word that ought to be - and threw a panicked glance at Tino, who gave him an equally panicked glance in return, and looked as though he wanted to fall through the floor.

"Um, Mom…" Tino repeated, slightly more urgently.

"Oh, that's right!" she said, and drew back, as though suddenly remembering something. "Tino did say you were quiet! Well, that's just fine, he's such a chatterbox, so it balances out!"

She patted him on the shoulder, and he made another futile attempt at a smile. At least she didn't seem frightened of him. "I'm off to work now, so you boys have fun. If you stay up late, you stay over here, okay? I don't want anyone walking home after midnight."

She seemed to be looking for a response to that, so he nodded, and tried not to worry even more at the thought of _sleeping_ in someone else's house.

"And Tino, remember to clean up if you use the stove." With that, she hugged Tino - ignoring a strangled protest of _"Mom!"_ - and headed out the door. "See you in the morning! Don't burn the house down!"

Once she'd left, the both of them took a second to just breathe and then Tino turned to him, still blushing. "So, um, want some leftover birthday cake? We celebrated this morning."

Still recovering from the onslaught of attention, he could only nod, and wonder what he'd just gotten into.

* * *

Berwald was too nervous at first to actually _eat_ any cake, but Hanatamago followed them to the kitchen and climbed up in his lap, and after a few minutes petting her ears and listening to Tino talk about how she'd totally almost gotten all the cake that morning, he finally started to relax. There didn't seem to be anyone else home, to his great relief.

When they were finished Berwald insisted on washing the dishes, because he figured it was the polite thing to do. Tino tried halfheartedly to talk him out of it, admitted that he really hated doing dishes, and then sat perched on the counter next to him and dried them off.

"So, what do you wanna do?" Tino asked, kicking his feet absentmindedly. "We could watch a movie, or play video games…" A thoughtful look crossed his face. "What kind of games do you like?"

"Never played any."

"What? Really?"

Berwald shook his head. Console games had always seemed like the sort of thing you needed a second person for, and online games had… people. He looked up at Tino and hoped that that didn't make him seem too weird, but Tino just grinned.

"We have to fix that, then!" He hopped off the counter, and tugged at Berwald's sleeve when he was slow in following him out of the room. "Come on! You've really never played video games? Not even Pokemon?"

He shook his head again, and followed Tino down the hallway to the last door. He'd never seen anyone else's room before. Tino's was rather small, and rather… well, messy was probably the nicest way of putting it, considering that Berwald was having trouble seeing the floor. Tino had posters on his walls for loads of things Berwald had never even heard of - possibly the aformentioned Japanese cartoons, judging from the bright colors and the writing he couldn't read - and the entire place was overtaken by a very large, very unmade bed.

Tino gave an embarrassed laugh and began unplugging things from the TV that sat against the wall. "Since Mom's not home, we can hook these up to the big TV… um, sorry about the mess…"

Berwald shrugged, and hung back, standing in the doorway and trying not to be rude or do anything intrusive as Tino started looking through a stack of games, though he couldn't help but stare at the pile of… stuff… that took up one whole corner.

Tino stopped rifling through his games and gave him a sheepish grin. "Oh, um, it's… well, my old bookshelf fell apart, so I got a new one, right? But then I couldn't get it to go together because there are all these pieces, and the instructions were written in Romanian, so…"

For the first time that night, Berwald knew what to do. Hesitantly, he stepped into the room and gave the pile of boards and other bits and pieces a closer look. He'd gotten new bedroom furniture after the move, and after too many hours assembling it was something of an expert, though singlehandedly lofting a bed was not something he was eager to try again soon. This, however…

He started sorting through it, and tried not to feel too self-conscious as he realized that Tino was watching him work. With all the pieces sorted, it looked like it ought to be fairly straightforward to put together. "Hm. Got a phillips screwdriver?"

"Um… yeah! Hang on a sec." Tino disappeared and came back a short while later, screwdriver in hand, and with Berwald directing and Tino helping to hold the pieces in place it was easy enough to get the bookshelf set up.

"'S not so bad," Berwald said, sliding the last shelf into place.

"Oh wow! You didn't even end up with extra pegs!" Tino grinned. "Thanks!"

Berwald blushed, and looked away. The smile Tino gave him made something twist funny in his stomach. In fact, it looked kind of...

…_cute_.

He froze.

Where had _that_ thought come from?


	8. Chapter 8

"So, what should we play first?"

Berwald couldn't answer. Maybe that thought was a mistake. He looked at Tino again. No, still cute. He hurriedly looked away.

He was struck with the sudden urge to run from the room. This was bad. Tino was his best friend. But -

Was this what it was like to have a crush on someone? That had never happened before. Did having a crush on another guy make him gay?

Okay, that didn't matter right now. Tino was standing here in front of him - and Tino was cute. And… okay, the more Berwald thought about it the more he realized he kind of liked Tino. But Tino was his friend. And if Tino found out he liked him Tino would probably think he was creepy and wouldn't want to hang out with him anymore. Oh, no, what if he'd just ruined everything?

He couldn't let Tino find out.

"Tetris? Mario Kart?… Desert Bus?"

Was there an acceptable way to have a nervous breakdown in front of your best friend?

"Okay, I guess that was a bad joke. Berwald? You in there?"

Maybe if he didn't think about it, it would just go away.

"Hey, don't worry. It's not as difficult as it looks. Here, you carry these." Tino thrust a stack of video games into his hands, and led the way to the living room, with Berwald following behind him, still dazed.

He managed to more or less pull himself together as Tino set about to hooking things up to the TV, but then Tino turned and grinned at him and his stomach got all flip-floppy again. He tried to smile back.

"All right, we're almost ready. Now we just need fuel. To the kitchen!"

Berwald set the games down and followed Tino, trying to push any thoughts of that out of his mind. Tino, at least, didn't seem to have noticed that anything was amiss, as he cheerfully began rifling through the cabinets - though for what, Berwald wasn't sure. He hung back near the kitchen doorway, torn between wanting to help, and not knowing where anything _was_, and not really wanting to go digging around in someone else's kitchen because what if something got messed up… and then Tino might be annoyed and he liked Tino and oh God, what was he supposed to do?

Tino stopped his rummaging, all of a sudden. "Aw, we're out of black licorice." He pulled his head out of the cabinet where he'd been searching and gave Berwald a questioning look. "I guess the red kind's all right. What do you think?"

Berwald just shrugged, and tried to hide his racing thoughts. Okay, all he had to do was not think about it, and everything would be fine. It had to be. That was all.

Tino shrugged back and resumed searching the cabinets. "Ooh, hey, never mind - I found some Halloween candy! Jackpot!" He emerged, red-faced and slightly dusty, holding a very large, very rumpled plastic bag. Berwald seriously hoped he wasn't planning on them eating that all tonight. "_Now_ we're ready."

They went back to the living room, and as soon as Berwald sat down Tino stuck a controller in his hands, grinning. He was nervous, at first, but games did make a good alternative to focus on instead of the fact that hehadacrushonhisbestfriendoh _no, _andafter fifteen minutes of failing spectacularly and meeting with nothing more than a good-natured laugh from Tino, Berwald finally managed to relax. Over the course of the next several hours, he learned that he was terrible at fighting games, okay at shooters (though Tino was almost frighteningly good) and apparently a genius at Tetris, which was definitely the most fun of all of them.

He also learned that Tino was very fond of sweets. As soon as Tino had sat down he'd opened up the Halloween candy, been briefly disappointed that it seemed to only contain suckers, and then promptly stuck one in his mouth, replacing it with a new one every ten minutes or so.

Tino kept this up until two in the morning, and as he started on the latest replacement he turned to Berwald and said, "'Ey, can I ashk 'oo a queshtion?"

Berwald shrugged. "Go 'head."

He shifted the sucker to the side of his mouth. "What _happened?_ You don't seem to be the troublemaking type, so…" Tino trailed off and looked away, turning back to the screen. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to; I was just wondering."

Berwald said nothing for a moment. Slowly he began, "Mom needed t' work on stuff. Can't work when I'm around. She's mad 'm not - don't go out much. Said get out. Wasn't sure where to get out to."

He watched out of the corner of his eye for Tino's reaction - what if Tino thought he was too weird, or what if that sounded whiny? He hoped he hadn't answered wrong.

"You live with just your mom, then?"

He nodded, and that seemed to spark Tino's interest.

"Oh, are your parents divorced too?"

"No. M' dad's…" Berwald stopped, as he realized how the answer would sound. He didn't want to make Tino feel bad, but he'd already started speaking, and wasn't really sure how else to put it. No one had ever asked him before. "…dead."

Tino turned toward him, wide-eyed and apologetic, "Oh no, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Berwald shook his head. "'S okay. Happened before I was born."

"Still, that's… rough."

Berwald had no answer to that - was it?

Tino turned back to the screen and was silent for a bit, and then he said, still looking at the TV, "My parents split four years ago. He went back to Finland. He calls, sometimes. I never know what to say to him." He frowned, and took the sucker stick out of his mouth, where he'd bitten it into a pulp. "Anyway, these suckers are pretty good! I can't tell what the mystery flavor is, though. Want one?"

"Sure."

He picked up a 'mystery' flavored one. Blueberry, he decided, and managed to summon the courage to ask something that he'd been wondering for a while. "… c'n I ask you a question?"

"What? Yeah, of course!"

"How come… 'n September, before me an' Ivan fought, what was he botherin' you for?" After a moment's silence, he continued, tentatively, "You don' seem like a troublemaker, either."

"Oh, that." Tino took another sucker out of the bag, but didn't open it, fidgeting with the wrapper instead. "He was just upset because… well, we used to be together and now we're… not. I was the one who broke it off, so… "

Together? But then, that would mean…

… so Tino was gay. Or at least, Tino liked guys. That was good.

Wait, what? Was that good?

He liked Tino. And Tino liked guys. And _he_ was a guy, so maybe -

No! It didn't matter who Tino liked, because Tino was his friend, and even if he liked Tino, Tino probably wouldn't like him (who would? He was too strange) and then if Tino found out he would think he was creepy and weird and wouldn't want to be his friend anymore. What was he supposed to do?

Okay, okay, it was simple. All he had to do was not say anything, and then Tino wouldn't know, and then Tino would still be his friend and then there was no problem so why was he even thinking about that anyway? Everything was fine.

If everything was fine, why was he still panicking?

Berwald was so caught up in his thoughts that he failed to notice Tino's reaction. When he realized that Tino had gone quite some time without saying anything, he looked over at him, and found Tino staring intently down at the unopened candy in his hand, biting his lip and looking more miserable than Berwald had ever seen him.

"Ohhh, no," he said, softly. "You didn't know, did you?"

Berwald wasn't sure how to answer - he hadn't, but he didn't think that that was what Tino was getting at. Before he could come up with the words, though, Tino spoke again, still staring down at his hands.

"Yeah, I'm gay… and now you're gonna hate me, too. Look, it's just -"

No! Berwald's heart raced. That wasn't what he'd meant at all! He tried to say something, froze, tried again and made a really strange noise that got Tino's attention but only seemed to make him more upset, and then finally fought past the panic that was clawing its way up his throat and managed to force out, "Doesn' bother me any."

It was so mumbled he wasn't sure if Tino understood, but it seemed to help, at least. Tino looked up at him. "Really?"

It would have taken too long to speak, so he nodded, and a smile slowly spread across Tino's face.

Berwald did his best to smile back, relieved. "Can punch 'im a few more times, if you want."

Tino grinned. "Thanks."


	9. Chapter 9

They played video games for a while longer. Berwald didn't remember falling asleep, but he must have, because the next thing he knew Tino shook him awake and announced, "Bedtime!"

Berwald blinked groggily at him, trying to remember where he was and what was going on.

"Come on, Mom's gonna be home soon and she always watches the early news. If you're still on the couch you'll never get any sleep."

Right. Tino's house. Everything came rushing back - getting kicked out, the park, video games, _having a crush on Tino_ -

"You awake?"

And Tino was giving him a funny look. He couldn't let him find out! Berwald shook his head to clear it, and hastily mumbled, "Yeah."

"Oh, good, I was worried there for a sec. Come on." Berwald followed him back to his room and waited in the doorway, not sure what to do.

Tino seemed oblivious, rummaging in the closet. After a minute of searching, he pulled out a sleeping bag, and turned around, surprised to see Berwald still standing at the door. "You take the bed."

"But - 's yours -" He couldn't just kick someone out of their own bed. And beds were _personal._

"What, you'd rather have the sleeping bag? No way," Tino said with a laugh. "I think you're taller than it is. You'll get rugburn on your face or something. The bed's more comfortable, anyway."

Tino did have a point, and with him smiling like that - Berwald's stomach flip-flopped, and he couldn't find his voice to argue. Somewhat hesitantly, he stepped forward and pulled back the covers, as Tino cleared away some of the mess on the floor to spread out the sleeping bag, and turned off the lights.

Now he just had to fall asleep. But he was _in Tino's bed_ and he liked Tino and what if he started talking in his sleep or something? He stared at the ceiling, trying to decide if he should try to relax and fall asleep or if he should try to stay awake so he didn't start talking or something, and concluded that it didn't matter because he was too nervous to fall asleep anyway and he liked _Tino_ -

Tino's voice interrupted his train of thought. "Um, Berwald?"

"Hm?"

"Are you cold, too?"

He hadn't really noticed it as he'd been too busy having a mental breakdown, but now that Tino mentioned it… he was. Only a little, but it was easier to answer that than to say, 'I have a crush on you and I'm worried you'll find out about it so I'm completely unable to close my eyes.'

"...yeah."

"Aw, crap." Tino sighed. "I think the furnace went out again. We were having problems with it last week."

An eerie glow lit up the room as Tino picked up his cell phone and started tapping out a text message - probably to his mom, Berwald figured. "We don't have any other blankets, but I've got a hoodie that should fit you if you want it…"

He highly doubted that. Tino barely even came up to his shoulder, and he definitely wasn't any bigger around. Berwald's thoughts wandered briefly - the more he considered it, the more he realized that Tino definitely wasn't unattractive, and he was here with Tino and _in Tino's bed_ -

- and Tino was waiting for an answer. "Sure," he said, thankful that it was dark. He was sure he was blushing.

Cell phone lighting the way, Tino rifled through a drawer and pulled on a hoodie himself, before tossing one at Berwald. To Berwald's surprise the shirt not only fit him, it was actually too big. He couldn't think of anything to say, and just stared at the sleeves, which extended well past his fingertips. _That_ had never happened before.

Tino laughed, a little, as he climbed back into his sleeping bag. "Yeah, Dad keeps figuring I must've hit a growth spurt by now. Hey, um, if anything like this happens again, you should text me, okay? You can always come over here."

Really? He felt his face redden again, and it took a moment to get his voice back. "Thanks."

There was just one problem. "….don' have a cell phone," he mumbled.

"What? No way! They sell them at Wal-Mart!"

"Really?" He hadn't known that. Then again, he hadn't had occasion to really use a phone before - he'd considered getting one, in case of emergencies, but his mom was so difficult to get ahold of he figured it wouldn't have made much difference.

'That's it, we're going to Wal-Mart!" Tino looked over at the clock. 3:52 A.M. "Not right now, though. The mean cashier is on right now. We'll go tomorrow." He yawned. "Good night."

" 'Night." He laid down again, snuggling into the overlarge sweatshirt, and slowly relaxed enough to fall asleep.

* * *

Tino's mother had already gone to sleep by the time they woke up (though she'd left a note covered with smiley faces to tell Tino to be around on Monday for the furnace repairman), which left Tino with free rein to use the kitchen. He quickly concluded that the only appropriate breakfast food was gummy bear pancakes, failed spectacularly at cooking gummy bear pancakes, and then ceded responsibility for gummy-bear-pancake-making to Berwald, who apparently had a knack for it.

"I dunno how you do it," Tino told him, through a mouthful of gummy candies and syrup, "I can never tell when they're ready to flip."

Berwald swallowed. He'd passed on the syrup, but he had to admit, the pancakes weren't half bad… even if they were a color no pancake should ever be. " 'S the bubbles," he explained. "Gotta wait for 'em to pop."

Tino made an impressed noise, and inhaled the remaining pancakes with gusto. Berwald couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride.

Their trip to Wal-Mart was an adventure, mostly because Tino was allowed to borrow his mom's car while she was asleep, and he was an… interesting driver. They made it to and from the Wal-Mart in record time because Tino seemed to feel that speed limits were suggestions, with the speakers blaring something that Tino informed him was called 'Viking metal,' and Berwald plastered to the passenger seat and praying that he wouldn't die.

He did end up with a prepaid cell phone and Tino's phone number though, so he supposed it worked out all right in the end.

As they stepped back into the house, Tino yawned. "All that driving made me sleepy. You like coffee?"

"Dunno." He'd never had it before. He followed Tino to the kitchen, where Tino proved that although he was somewhat inept when confronted with the stove, he was an expert with the coffeemaker. A short time later he handed Berwald a cup of a beverage that was blacker than ink and looked just about as tasty.

Gingerly, Berwald tried a sip, and immediately thereafter tried not to spit it out, as Tino watched him expectantly. He tried not to think about the butterflies that look gave him, and forced a smile. "Mmm."

Tino laughed, and slid the sugar bowl across the counter to him. "Here, you should put sugar in it, first."

He added three heaping spoonfuls, which didn't do anywhere near enough to cover up the taste, though thankfully after drinking about half of it, his taste buds seemed to give up and go numb. After Tino had drunk two cups of heavily-sugared coffee, he declared them both to have sufficient energy to continue gaming, which they did for the rest of the afternoon.

As evening came around, Berwald glanced at the clock and bit his lip, thinking. He'd been gone a while now - would his mother wonder where he was? Would she be mad? This had never happened before.

He sighed, and decided to play it safe. "Should prob'ly head home now."

Tino nodded, but he looked concerned. "Will you - I mean, will that be okay?"

He shrugged. "Think so."

Judging by the expression on Tino's face, that answer hadn't been very convincing. "Can't stay mad too long."

Nor that one. "Text you 'f it doesn' work out," he offered.

"All right. Want a ride?"

Remembering their earlier near-death experience, Berwald shook his head. "Nah. Thanks."

Tino smiled. "Anytime."

* * *

When he arrived home, his mother was in the same spot she'd been in when he left - on the couch, typing away. She didn't seem angry - or at least, she didn't tell him to leave again - so he figured it was probably all right.

He headed to the kitchen, which was separated by the living room by a high counter, and surveyed the coffee machine. Maybe if he drank more coffee, it would start to taste good. He just had to figure out how to make it, first.

"What are you doing?" she called out, not looking up from the computer.

"Makin' coffee." All right, was he supposed to press the button _there_? The machine beeped angrily at him. Apparently not.

"Where were you?" She sounded more curious than anything.

"Friend's house." And there was the coffee. Finally.

"See? I told you it wasn't that hard."

Berwald glared for a second - she didn't see it, being focused on the computer screen - and looked away, trying not to say anything nasty. He didn't want a fight, and there were bigger things to worry about right now. He stared down at the mug of coffee, thinking, and then carefully added five spoons of sugar and a quarter cup of milk.

Unfortunately, all the effort spent on _not_ saying angry things meant that all sorts of other things were completely free to pop out of his mouth. "Think I might be gay."

Stunned at what he'd just said - wasn't that the sort of thing you were supposed to plan on saying, beforehand? - he picked up the coffee mug and drank, as though covering his mouth would un-say it.

She just shrugged, and continued typing. "I figured."

What.

"No sex 'til you're eighteen."

_What?!_

He choked, nearly spitting out his coffee. He hadn't even _thought_ about… Oh God, what if he told Tino he liked him, and Tino felt the same way, and Tino wanted to do… that? Was he supposed to know how to - but he'd never -

Compulsively, he drank sips of coffee as he panicked, downing a good three-quarters of the mug before he noticed how horrible it tasted, and made a hasty retreat to his room, before she could say anything else like _that_.

Not - quickly, he drank another gulp of coffee, letting the awful bitterness distract him. Maybe six spoons of sugar would be a better choice, next time. Or twelve. Maybe that was why Tino had such a thing for sweets. Tino. Whom he liked. And -

No, he wasn't going to even think about… things. Especially since he still didn't know what to do about the fact that Tino was his best friend and he _liked_ him. What could he do? Tino was the only person he could have asked, and since it was Tino, that was out.

He eyed his computer thoughtfully. Maybe the internet…?

He opened up the laptop, brought up Google, and typed in 'what to do if you have a crush on someone.' Amid such wonderfully helpful advice as 'tell all your friends about it!' 'write secret love notes in your diary, then tell all your friends about them!' and 'make sure you read your horoscopes every day so that your friends can stay informed!' he found that every single site seemed to come to one conclusion: tell him.

He picked up the coffee mug with a shaking hand and downed the last of it.

He couldn't do that. He couldn't.

Could he?


	10. Chapter 10

After ten terrifying minutes of looking at internet advice, Berwald slammed his computer shut in a near-panic and quickly decided that there was absolutely no way he could say anything. Ever. What had he been thinking?

It was best to just ignore it.

Over the rest of the weekend, he did his best to pull himself together and to put all thoughts of his newfound crush out of his mind, though it was difficult. He got a chance to send his first-ever text message on Saturday night when he realized, to his extreme mortification, that he was still wearing Tino's hoodie. His hands had shaken so badly that he'd nearly dropped the phone, but Tino had simply replied with a flurry of barely-decipherable emoticons and told him not to worry.

It was _really_ best to just ignore it.

Berwald spent Sunday focusing on homework and trying very hard not to think of anything else, which was no easy task with Tino's hoodie sitting folded up on his dresser, mocking him.

If he ignored it, maybe it would go away. He was already weird enough and definitely didn't need a crush on his best friend adding to the problems.

On Monday, Berwald brought Tino's hoodie back to him and tried not to completely go to pieces in the process. He was quieter than usual at lunchtime, but Tino didn't seem to be bothered - and he definitely didn't seem to notice anything different, to Berwald's great relief.

Maybe the plan was working.

Berwald still felt jittery every time Tino so much as looked at him, but by Friday, he'd become accustomed to this new state of affairs, and approached the lunch hour feeling the calmest he had all week. He took a seat, as usual, opened his lunchbox, as usual, and prepared to make normal conversation, when he noticed that Tino was acting… strange.

The cafeteria special of the day was taco pockets, which Tino usually devoured as quickly as possible ("They're like a fiesta in my mouth!"), but this time instead of wolfing them down he sat arranging and re-arranging them on his tray in kind of a meat-filled shell game. Berwald only stared, lost for words, until Tino finally looked away from the taco tower he'd built and said, "Hey, um, are you busy tonight?"

Berwald shrugged. "Work four to six, but nothin' after that."

"Wanna come over after? I, um, got a new game. It's called Minecraft. I think you'd like it…" He trailed off, and gave Berwald a smile that Berwald might have noticed as being a little shaky, if he hadn't been so busy trying to breathe.

Tino asking him over again? Of course he wanted to - but what if he slipped up and Tino found out he liked - but it was _Tino_ - but -

He swallowed, and picked the path of least resistance. "Sure."

"Great! I can pick you up from work if you want."

He looked so enthusiastic Berwald couldn't say no, even though he wasn't sure that Tino's driving would allow them to survive the trip.

They did survive, and spent 12 straight hours gaming, and Berwald even managed to say hello to Tino's mother as she left to go to work. The week after that, Tino hadn't even had to finish asking him to come over before Berwald said yes, and had grinned like a lunatic when he showed up to get him. And that grin made Berwald's stomach do somersaults, even as Berwald tried his best to tell it not to.

The plan wasn't working, after all. He definitely liked Tino, and it didn't seem to be going away.

* * *

Christmas break arrived, and Tino, unfortunately, was compelled to spend the holiday at his great-aunt Edna's in Michigan, leaving Berwald more-or-less alone. Berwald's mother did tear herself away from her lab long enough for Christmas dinner, but that was the extent of the celebration. By the 26th, he was already beginning to feel lonely.

By the 27th, he'd picked up his phone half a dozen times and almost typed, well, _something_ to Tino, (he'd never gotten further than 'Hey') before wondering if that was being creepy (and obvious) and deleting it all.

By New Year's Eve, he was starting to wish that school were back in session. He flopped down on the couch and tried desperately to find a channel that wasn't showing political diatribes, doomsday messages, or retrospectives on forty years of Dick Clark's hairdo, and had just about given up hope when his phone buzzed, startling him.

A message from Tino.

_u busy? ^_^;_

Berwald grinned.

_Nope._

* * *

Twenty minutes later Berwald was stepping into the living room of Tino's house and fending off a wildly excited Hanatamago (who couldn't seem to decide if she wanted to bark at him or jump on him) as he listened to a thoroughly worn-out Tino describe the harrowing nature of his vacation.

" -and then the cat ate grandma's dentures, and then the plane got delayed, so we had a 10-hour layover in Detroit." Tino stretched. Berwald tried not to stare. "Airport chairs were so not meant for sleeping on!And _then_ the TSA confiscated great-grandma's fruitcake but it's kind of horrible anyway, so -"

"Oh, hi, Berwald!" Tino's mom had appeared in the doorway. Berwald smiled at her, and had just started to reply when she went on, "It's so nice to see you again! Did you have a good Christmas? Oh, unless you don't celebrate Christmas! I didn't think to ask! Oh, dear, I hope I haven't offended you -"

"Mom-" Tino cut in, but it went unheard.

"Anyways, I'm going to bed so you two just keep it down to a dull roar, okay? There's cookies in the kitchen. You should eat some, Berwald, you're a growing boy! Good night!"

"G'night," Berwald answered, as Tino turned bright red and buried his face in his hands. After a moment to recover from near-fatal levels of embarrassment, Tino weakly suggested, "TV?"

"Sure." Berwald handed him the remote, and as he did he noticed that Tino's fingernails were now quite a bit pinker than normal… and sparkly.

Tino caught him looking, and gave an embarrassed shrug. "My youngest cousin got a dress-up set for Christmas," he explained. "She decided I was a pretty princess."

He sounded so pained that Berwald had to resist the urge to smile. Solemnly, he agreed, "The prettiest."

Tino turned and stared, and for one stomach-lurching moment Berwald was sure he'd offended him - until Tino burst out laughing. "Oh my god, you just made a _joke_!"

Berwald did smile then, though tentatively, as Tino laughed, and laughed, and nearly fell off the couch laughing, before he finally straightened up, red-faced and breathless. He looked at Berwald and laughed again, wiping tears out of his eyes. "We should celebrate. I think there's cake, too…"

There wasn't cake, but there was a box of cake mix, two bags of chocolate chips, a jar of strawberry sprinkles, and the aforementioned cookies. Berwald spent the next half hour watching in fascination as Tino combined them in new and interesting ways, and then the forty-five minutes after that making sure that he didn't burn the house down with his rather creative interpretations of the baking directions. (Berwald was reasonably sure that broiling a cake was never, ever necessary.)

Cake in hand, they sat down to watch the festivities on TV, though as the night wore on Berwald could tell that traveling had tired Tino out. He passed out around eleven, and Berwald let him be until it got near to twelve, when he figured it wouldn't be very nice to let him miss things.

"Hey," he said, as loudly as he could manage, and Tino gave a start.

"What…?"

"Wake up. 'S almost midnight."

"Oh!" Tino sat slowly up, blinking at him. "You thought of a wish?"

"Hm?"

"They say if you make a wish at midnight it comes true." He yawned, and sat back into the couch, eyes gradually fluttering closed. He really did look cute like that, Berwald thought, and hastily looked away to the TV.

5…

Berwald stared intently at the television, trying very much not to do anything that might give his thoughts away, and felt a soft touch on his shoulder.

4…

He looked down, and saw Tino's head resting there. He must have fallen asleep again.

3…

Berwald held his breath, not daring to move. It would be polite to move him…

2…

… but maybe not just yet. He closed his eyes.

1…

_I wish he'd like me, too._

He hoped Tino couldn't hear how fast his heart was beating. It felt like it was going to jump out of his throat. "Happy New Year," he whispered.

Sleepily, Tino mumbled back, "Happy New Year."

* * *

They sat in front of the TV for a bit longer, though Tino was asleep and Berwald found himself completely unable to pay attention to what was on the screen. He finally decided to wake Tino up, because if he stayed like that much longer he'd probably have a horrible backache and Berwald would probably have a heart attack. He shrugged his shoulder. "Hey."

Tino immediately jumped away. "Oh no, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize -"

Berwald blushed, wanting to (and knowing that he definitely couldn't) tell him that it was okay, it was actually kind of cute, and then as he was trying to figure out just exactly what he _could_ say he noticed that Tino was adorable when he was all flustered like that, too. In the end, he turned even redder, and muttered, "Don' worry about it."

Tino fell asleep easily that night, but Berwald had no such luck. He lay in bed, very decidedly not glancing over at Tino's sleeping form, and thinking. He really did like him, and he'd liked him for long enough now that he figured it probably wasn't going to go away soon. Everything he'd read had said to tell him, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he absolutely couldn't do it. Even if he wanted to, he supposed he'd probably end up losing his voice and then the whole thing would be ruined. What would the point be in telling him, anyway? If Tino liked him, Berwald figured, Tino would say something.

Tino never had trouble speaking, after all.


	11. Chapter 11

They spent the rest of Christmas break hanging out on Tino's couch, eating Pop-Tart sandwiches, and playing Minecraft, which Berwald did indeed like. After getting to spend so much time nonstop with Tino, Berwald hadn't been particularly looking forward to returning to school, although the first week back wasn't so bad. They had very little homework, and on Friday, Tino had come to get him from work without even needing to ask.

Berwald was just beginning to settle in to this routine, and to finally be more-or-less calm around Tino, when on Thursday, he arrived in History class and heard Miss Smith utter the words that no student ever wanted to hear.

"Right, class! We're going to do something fun!"

This couldn't be good.

"We're continuing on with the Civil War, and I could just stand here and lecture you about it, but that's boring, so we're going to do group projects!"

His heart raced. Group projects? How was he supposed to work with a group when he couldn't even talk to them? He supposed no one would want to work with him anyway, and then -

His hands were shaking, and he crossed his arms to hide it, staring down at his desk. He could feel at least some of the other students staring at him, probably wondering the same things he was.

"Split up into groups of four - or wait, there's an odd number. One group of five. You have one minute. Go!"

As soon as she stopped speaking Tino turned around and smiled. "You're in my group. Hang on, I'll find us some partners."

Berwald tried to smile back at him, gave up, and resumed staring at his desk while Tino scanned the room for groupmates. By the time Berwald looked back up, Tino had flagged down Al and Matt, who looked… well, not entirely thrilled, but at least they weren't mad.

"Hey," said Al, and Matt gave a small wave. Berwald gave them both a nod, and helped Tino arrange their desks together, while Miss Smith handed out instructions.

Al picked up the paper, chewing a corner of his lip as he studied it. "All right, let's see, we need to research the battle of Gettysburg and analyze it in the context of blah blah blah, minimum of a five-page paper, ten sources… two of which can't be found on the internet? Really?!"

He made a face. "Okay, well, I'm banned from the library 'cause of that thing with the cheeseburgers…"

Berwald looked at Tino, who looked at Matthew, who quickly said, "Don't ask."

"… so who can do that?"

That would be easy enough, Berwald thought. He could just pick a few books up while he was working. He tried to answer him, and was met with silence when he found that his difficulty with words had _not_ miraculously cured itself. And now Al and Matt were giving him funny looks. Great.

Tino, thankfully, realized what he was trying to say and offered, "Berwald works there."

"You do?"

Thank goodness, a yes-or-no question. He nodded.

"Great! Okay, you're in charge of finding those and getting information on the historical background. Matt, you should look for information about the leaders involved, Tino….?"

"I'll do strategy, unless you want to."

"No way, man, I'm gonna find a bunch of gory pictures or something. Everyone loves illustrations!" At a look from Matt, he added, "And other stuff, too."

With that settled, they got to work. They had a week before the project was due. Berwald definitely wasn't looking forward to a whole week of group work, but as long as Tino was in it with him, it wasn't quite so bad.

* * *

Somehow, Berwald managed to survive the rest of the morning, though he was mostly useless at conversing during lunch. Tino seemed to get it, and didn't press him, and by the time the school day ended he felt almost back to normal. They were just heading down to the park that afternoon, preparing to make an attempt at snow soccer, when Tino's phone went off.

Both of them jumped at the sudden noise, but then Tino looked down at the screen and grinned. Berwald wasn't sure what he was grinning over, but he couldn't help but grin back as Tino said, "Hang on a sec."

He took a seat on a picnic table as he picked up the phone, and started talking rapidly in a language that Berwald didn't recognize. He hadn't known Tino spoke another language. Finnish, maybe? He listened raptly, for all that he didn't understand the words. Something about hearing Tino speak it gave him butterflies.

Berwald was busy trying to keep Tino from finding out about _that_ when Tino's grin suddenly vanished. Abruptly, he hung up, and dropped the phone in his lap, looking like he'd just been punched in the gut.

Berwald might not have understood what he'd been saying, but he understood that look. He took a couple steps toward him, wondering if he should ask.

Tino didn't look up, and in a wavering, watery voice said, "That was, um, my dad."

He didn't elaborate, and Berwald wasn't sure what to say next, and after several more seconds of silence Tino buried his face in his hands. Instinctively Berwald reached out, ready to - hug him? He didn't know. He wanted to do _something_ - but he pulled back, unsure whether he should. Maybe that was too much. Maybe Tino wouldn't want to be hugged right now.

He settled for sitting down next to him, and asked, slowly, "Somethin' happen?"

The answer was immediate. "No."

That was an awfully strong reaction for nothing. That look -

Berwald bit his lip, wishing like anything that he knew what to say to make it better. Unable to find the right words, he sat next to him in silence, their legs just close enough to touch.

Finally, Tino took a deep breath, and scrubbed his hands across his face, staring down at his knees. "Well, it's… "

He sighed. "I haven't seen him since he moved back to Finland four years ago. In the summer I work for parks and rec, and I've been saving up to go visit him, and I was hoping to go at the end of this summer, but… he just said no." He dragged the heel of one hand roughly across his eyes. "And I know it's stupid to get upset over, but it sucks. A lot."

"Hey." Hesitantly, Berwald reached out again, just barely brushing his fingertips against Tino's sleeve. "'S not stupid."

Tino said nothing.

Gently, Berwald nudged his knee. "'S not."

He wasn't sure if Tino had heard him, but after a few moments Tino looked up, and managed weak smile. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He slid off the table and hefted the soccer ball in one hand. "Soccer?"

* * *

Berwald spent a lot of time that night thinking. While he was working, he'd grabbed a couple books for their project, and he looked through them at home, writing up anything useful. His mind kept wandering away from history, though, and back to that afternoon.

He couldn't forget that look on Tino's face.

He'd said he was fine, and hadn't brought the subject up again, but Berwald could tell it still bothered him. It really wasn't stupid to be upset over; Berwald would have been upset too, if it were him, and he wished he knew how to cheer Tino up. He'd wanted to hug him, but… no, Tino might have thought that was weird. Could people hug their friends? He didn't know.

Maybe he'd make him pancakes. With chocolate chips or something. Yeah, that would be good.

He headed to school the next morning looking forward to that night, despite the fact that he had group project work to get through, first. As long as Tino was there to help, everything would be fine.

Tino hadn't arrived yet. Al and Matt had, and Berwald helped them move their desks together, but as the bell rang to signal the start of first hour the desk next to him remained empty.

Tino wasn't there.


	12. Chapter 12

Berwald stared at the clock in a panic, as though that would somehow make time turn back. Tino wasn't there, and he was stuck working with a group of people he couldn't talk to.

This was bad.

Al had turned to look at him. "You know where he is?"

Oh, great, and now his hands were shaking. Berwald crossed his arms, trying to hide his nervousness, and shook his head. Maybe Tino just overslept or something. That could happen. Maybe he'd show up and then Berwald wouldn't have to answer anything else.

That would be good right about now.

"Ooookay. Well, we've got a while yet and it looks like we're getting time in the computer lab Monday so as long as he shows up then…"

No luck.

"Dude, you okay?"

He nodded, quickly - anything to stave off personal questions, _please_ - and slid the results of last night's research across the desk. Hopefully that would be enough to change the subject.

Matt picked it up, eyes wide. "Wow, you did all this already?" He scanned the notes, and gave Berwald a small smile. "This is great! You're way more productive than Al is."

"Hey, I'm working on it!"

"Watching _Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter_ doesn't count as working on it!"

"Does too!"

Crisis averted. Berwald sighed, relieved.

* * *

History was the worst, though in the end it didn't go as badly as he'd feared it would. In every other class all he had to do was follow his usual routine of sitting there and being quiet. And trying to calm down.

Tino never showed up.

He must have been sick, Berwald figured, although he'd seemed fine yesterday. Berwald had just sat down to a lonely lunch and was about to take out his phone and text him - if he wasn't too sick, Berwald could bring him the day's notes after school - when Al plunked his lunch tray down on the table and sprawled out in the seat opposite without so much as a hello.

All right. That was new. Berwald tried to smile.

In return, Al adjusted his glasses and pointed his plastic spork at him, face grave. "Okay, dude, I know we don't talk much-"

Or at all, really.

"-but there's something seriously important you need to know, 'cause I don't think you're gonna get it on your own and this is totally my heroic deed for the day."

Berwald wasn't sure where this was heading, but nodded anyway, trying to be polite. What came next was quite possibly the last thing he'd expected to hear out of anyone, ever.

"Dude, he seriously likes you."

It was a good thing Berwald wasn't eating. He'd have choked.

_What?_ But how - he couldn't - that wasn't -

"No, dude, really. I can so tell these things! Look, me and Tino, we're in a whole bunch of sports clubs together and he always gets this dopey look on his face when someone talks about you. And he's always hanging around with you and junk. Matt and me totally tried to get him to join the winter lacrosse league, but he says he's busy on Fridays - and I totally saw you guys hanging out! I wasn't gonna say anything, 'cause I figured none of my business, but you're all _mopey_ today, right? So then I thought, like, you don't talk, so what if you don't know, and then I figured _someone_ needed to step up and be the hero -"

This had to be a joke.

Berwald frowned, but Al only grinned back at him. "You should make a move, dude!"

Before he had time to even get his head around that notion Al leaned in and lowered his voice, earnest. "Look, I don't know all the details but I guess the last breakup he had was a _mess_, right?"

Was it? He hadn't known that. Maybe -

Then it hit him. Oh, God - if someone he didn't even _talk_ to could tell that he liked him than what about Tino? Did everyone know? What if Tino had realized it and he was avoiding him and - ?

Berwald suddenly couldn't tell if he wanted to be sick or run away. He stared, horrified, as Al continued,

"So like, he's probably reluctant or something. Once burned, twice shy and all that jazz. So all you need to do is be a hero and -"

To his great relief, before Al could expound any further on the subject of heroism - and Berwald's _love life,_ oh God, this had to be the most embarrassing thing ever; he seriously just wanted to fall through the floor and die - Matt showed up and promptly clapped a hand over Al's mouth. "Basically, what this idiot is trying to say is _if_ you like him, don't wait for him or you'll be waiting forever."

He let go, and gestured to the other side of the cafeteria, giving Al a pointed look. "C'mon, I told Francis I'd give him my physics notes."

Al looked for a moment like he was about to protest, but at another look from Matt, he slowly nodded, and got up. As they headed away, Matt gave Berwald a small smile.

Hesitantly, Berwald smiled back.

* * *

It took quite some time for the shock of that conversation to wear off; several minutes after they'd left Berwald looked at his lunch and decided that it probably wouldn't fit in his stomach with all the butterflies already trapped in there. Several minutes after _that_ he managed to work up the nerve to pick up his phone - it was normal to ask if Tino needed notes, right? Tino wouldn't think that that meant -

- unless Tino already _knew_ and -

- well, no, if he knew, he'd have said something, right?

But then there was that thing that Al had said… No! He definitely wasn't going to start thinking about that! He just had to act normal and everything would be fine. With shaky fingers, he typed out _Sick?_

The response was almost immediate.

_no_

No? Frowning, he texted back, _?_

_didnt feel like school 2day_

That was not the answer he'd expected. He frowned down at his phone, wondering if Tino was going to elaborate. After a minute of tense silence, it buzzed.

_u work 2nite?_

_Yeah. 4-6._

No answer to that. Why was Tino skipping?

He bit his lip. It wasn't something he'd done, was it? Did he know -

The bell rang, ending the lunch hour, and he'd just stood up to leave when his phone buzzed one last time.

_cool c u there_

* * *

Berwald spent the rest of the afternoon thinking. After seriously contemplating the issue - and nearly getting brained by a volleyball in gym class, while busy with said contemplation - he realized it couldn't have been anything he'd done, because then Tino wouldn't have wanted to see him later. That still left the question of what had happened.

He supposed he'd find out after work. On his way there, Berwald stopped and picked up a bag of gummy bears, because he figured that Tino could probably do with cheering up, and if he didn't need cheering up, he liked gummy bears anyways.

He kept an eye out for Tino while he was working, and finally found him hiding out in a third-floor alcove. He sat at a study table, his head pillowed on his arms and earbuds in his ears. From what Berwald could see of his face - his hood covered most of it - he didn't look too happy. Something _was_ wrong, then.

As Berwald walked past, he pulled the bag of gummy bears out of his pocket, and dropped it on the table. The noise startled Tino, who looked up at him, blinking. It took him a second to put two-and-two together, but once he had, he gave Berwald such an honest smile that it made Berwald's stomach do flips all over again.

As Berwald walked on, resuming his work, he heard Tino whisper, "Thanks."

* * *

When his shift was over he met up with Tino, who was sitting on a bench outside, hanging his head. Berwald hesitated a moment - maybe it was a mistake, coming out here. Maybe Tino would have preferred to be left alone - until Tino moved his bookbag off the bench beside him in an invitation to sit down.

Berwald sat. "Hey."

"Hey."

Tino said nothing, and Berwald fidgeted with his own bookbag, wondering what to say. He'd never had trouble with Tino being too quiet before.

Finally, Tino mumbled, "I'm sorry."

Surprised, Berwald looked over at him, and found he had that same punched-in-the-gut look he'd had yesterday. His brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Left you all alone."

"'S all right. 'm pretty good at miming." He held his hands up in imitation of the 'invisible box' routine.

Tino smiled weakly, and looked away again. "And I know you probably hate me now too-"

What? Lightly, Berwald poked him in the arm. "Nope." What could possibly make Tino think that? "Why?"

"Well, it's just, it's like - well, there was today, and then yesterday I was a total jerk 'cause I was complaining and then I remembered _your_ dad, and…" He stared down at his knees, guiltily.

Oh. Slowly, Berwald said, "'S… different, though. Never knew mine."

Tino looked unconvinced.

"Face's gonna freeze that way." When that didn't even get an eye-roll, he took a deep breath, and added, "You're not a jerk, an' I don' hate you." Far from it, and he really wanted to tell Tino _that_, because then maybe Tino wouldn't be quite so upset - but no, he couldn't. There was no way and even if there was he was pretty sure that this wasn't the time. He smiled at him, instead, and prayed Tino understood.

"Really?" Tino looked so _hopeful,_ and it set Berwald's heart pounding.

"Yeah." _If only you knew._ He stood, and held out a hand. "C'mon."

* * *

They walked slowly back to Tino's house, side-by-side through the snow. Tino kept his eyes on the ground as he walked, and had little to say besides, "Thanks again for the gummy bears."

He didn't seem upset with Berwald, that was for sure, but there still was something wrong. When they got back, Hanatamago danced circles around Tino's feet, demanding dinner. They headed into the kitchen to feed her, and Berwald decided to dare to ask about it. He didn't want to pry, but…

"Hey," he said. "What happened?"

"Well, it's stupid…"

Berwald was pretty sure it wasn't.

"You know that phone call yesterday? I was just… I feel like he doesn't even care sometimes, you know? So I woke up today and I was still kind of upset and I just…. I don't know." Tino sighed. "I couldn't fake sick, 'cause Mom's a nurse. And then she'd start asking what was really wrong, and _then_ she'd get mad at Dad and I hate it when they fight about stuff."

Unsure what to say, Berwald sat down, and pulled out the chair next to him. Tino gave half an unconvincing smile and flopped down, resting his head in his hands.

"I got all the way to the bus station and then I got your text." He laughed, humorlessly. "I guess I'm just all kinds of messed-up."

"Are not." Berwald _really_ didn't like seeing Tino like this. He bit his lip, trying and failing to think of a way to tell him that without revealing any secrets.

After several moments of silence, in which Tino's frown only got deeper, Berwald got up, and headed to the coffeemaker. It was slightly different from the one he had at home, but not too difficult to figure out. A short while later he had a steaming mug of coffee, which he added copious amounts of sugar to and set in front of Tino.

"Thanks," Tino said softly. He fidgeted with the mug a bit before finally taking a sip - and his face lit up. "Hey, this is pretty good! Where'd you learn to do that?"

Berwald just shrugged and smiled.

* * *

Tino gradually cheered up over the course of the evening, and by the time they went to bed at three he was back to his old self. He fell asleep in the middle of explaining to Berwald his plans for a new-and-improved gummy pancake recipe, which he'd been so enthusiastic about that Berwald hadn't had the heart to tell him that he didn't think licorice would mix well.

For Berwald, sleep was less easy to come by. Long after Tino had passed out, he lay there staring up at the ceiling, Matthew's words repeating in his head. _Don't wait for him or you'll be waiting_ _forever_.

He had to do it.


	13. Chapter 13

Berwald quickly realized that deciding to tell Tino he liked him was a lot easier than actually telling him.

It shouldn't have been so difficult, he thought. All he had to do was say three little words: _I like you_. Even for someone with trouble talking, three little words should have been manageable.

Except they weren't.

Several days after he'd decided, he tried to do it. School had ended, and they were heading down to the park, where their regular soccer-playing had worn a patch of ground mostly free from snow. Tino was in a good mood, tossing and catching the soccer ball as they walked, and there was no one else around. It was, Berwald thought, the perfect moment if there ever was one.

All he had to do was say three words - and if it went badly, well, they could both go home and not have to see each other for another sixteen hours. Perfect, _really_. Berwald stuck his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking, steadied his nerves, took a deep breath, and managed, "Hey."

Tino turned to look at him. "Yeah?"

Okay, so far so good. Now he just had to say it. He swallowed, and -

- silence. He couldn't speak.

_No_. Not now. He stood frozen, staring at Tino, as his heart sank to somewhere around his knees and his stomach twisted. All he had to do was _say_ it! He tried again, and could only stare helplessly as his breath froze in the air and Tino looked at him, concerned. He'd never felt so stupid.

After what felt like forever he looked away, and blushed so deeply he felt the tips of his ears going red. "Never mind," he mumbled.

Tino frowned a little, and reached out to gently touch his arm. Berwald wished he could just hug him so he wouldn't have to speak - but no, Tino would probably think that was weird, or creepy, or something, and Berwald had never hugged anyone before anyway, so he'd probably mess it up.

"Hey," Tino said, "You okay?"

Well, he was stupid, and he'd just horribly embarrassed himself in front of his best friend, and he wished more than anything that the ground would open up and swallow him whole…but he nodded, and forced a smile. "Yeah."

He tried several more times after that, but couldn't even manage to say 'Hey,' or do anything other than make a nervous idiot out of himself. After his sudden bouts of silence began to make Tino progressively more worried - though he thought it was about their history project, and kept trying to do all the work until they finally turned it in - and a tense weekend of trying not to let on that anything was wrong, Berwald concluded that before he could try again he needed practice.

He spent another week rehearsing it to himself in the mirror at home, thankful that his mother wasn't around because she surely would have thought he'd gone crazy. Even then, he couldn't figure out just what to say.

_Got a crush on you. Hope you don't hate me._ No.

_Think I like you. 'S all right if you're mad._ No.

_Hey, I really like… forget it. Soccer?_ Definitely no.

Nothing sounded right.

After a weekend of secretly agonizing over it, he showed up to school on Monday to find Tino grinning brightly and brandishing a flyer.

"Mornin'," Berwald said. "'S that?"

"The school ski trip! We don't have the support for a ski club, so once a year we and the other private schools go skiing together. Anyone who wants to can go, and you get to miss class!"

Berwald picked up the flyer that lay on his own desk. 'Inter-School Ski Festival!' it proudly proclaimed, 'Next Friday! Permission slips in the office!' It was nearly as enthusiastic as Tino was.

"Do you ski?"

He shook his head. He'd tried once, as a kid, and broken his arm on his first trip down the hill. That had very much been the end of that.

"I can show you how if you want. It's really fun!" His enthusiasm was almost infectious, and Berwald nearly said yes before realizing that it wouldn't just be his classmates going - it'd be underclassmen, and people from other schools, and he might have to _talk_ to them, and he was already nervous enough because that smile of Tino's was giving him horrible butterflies and it wasn't even first hour yet, and if Tino alone was making him that nervous…

Suddenly he realized he'd been staring in silence for far longer than was normal, even for him. He shook his head, and gave a sheepish smile. "Nah," he said. "Not my thing."

Tino was giving him that concerned look again, but before he could say anything about it, the bell rang, starting class. Berwald sighed. He needed to _tell_ him.

Though, what if Tino didn't feel the same way? What if he decided he hated Berwald, and didn't want to hang around with him anymore - or what if it was just too awkward, and there was no way they could be friends? The prospect of losing the best friend he'd ever had was definitely not thrilling.

Then again, he couldn't keep freezing up, or Tino would demand to know what was wrong, and he'd have to tell him anyway.

He supposed it was a risk he'd have to take.

* * *

After another week of unsuccessfully talking to the bathroom mirror, and another weekend of hoping Tino wouldn't ask him what was amiss, Berwald finally decided that was it. He couldn't take much more of this. He'd just have to do it, and say whatever he could, and hope that that was enough.

He'd even come up with a plan.

Tino, ever eager for the opportunity to get out of the classroom and run around, had signed up to go skiing, which meant that Berwald wouldn't see him until around 7 o'clock that night. Which, Berwald thought, would give him the entire afternoon to prepare, without Tino around to make him nervous about it.

Tino planned to come get him afterward, and Berwald figured he'd suggest kicking around a soccer ball in the park, or something, so that if it went badly neither of them would be stuck someplace wanting to leave. And if it _did_ go badly, he could easily run home and try to pretend the whole thing had never happened, and he'd have an entire weekend before he had to face Tino again.

It was the perfect plan. He couldn't wait for Friday.

* * *

On Friday morning, Berwald woke up surprisingly calm. By this time tomorrow, he figured, everything would be done with, and he'd either be back to having no friends (which he didn't want, but at least it was familiar) or… okay, thinking about that did make him kind of nervous. As he headed to school, he did his best to put all thoughts of the future out of his head, and focused on that night.

Just as math class was ending, an announcement came over the P.A. for teachers to release anyone going on the ski trip, and Tino waved goodbye to him with a grin. "I'll text you when I get back, okay?"

Berwald smiled, and nodded, and tried to pretend his stomach wasn't doing flip-flops at the thought of it. As school let out, though, and the evening wore on, he'd definitely developed a case of the jitters. He cleaned his room, even though it wasn't messy, looking for a way to keep himself busy.

Seven-thirty came. No Tino. Well, Berwald supposed it was quite possible they were running late. He worked on his homework to take his mind off of things, and tried not to be jittery. He couldn't stop himself from looking over at his phone, though.

Eight o'clock. Nothing.

At eight fifteen Berwald began to think of texting him, to see what was going on, but couldn't decide if he should or not. Was that being clingy? He didn't know a whole lot about interpersonal relationships, but he'd picked up enough to know that clingy was bad.

Not long after that he flipped on the TV, hoping some mindless background noise would help to calm his nerves. Where _was_ Tino, anyways? Checking his phone yet again, Berwald got up, about to head to the kitchen and make himself some coffee, when the scene on the TV caught his eye.

"_Yes Jim, we're still live from the scene of a terrible accident -_"

What? He sat back down, eyes narrowed at the screen. That backpack looked like -

"-_students from nearby schools were returning from a ski trip when the bus they were in left the roadway and overturned, as you can see here. So far there's no word on what caused the crash, but the injured students have been taken to St. Agnes Hospital, where at least one is listed as in critical condition._"

His heart lurched. No.

With shaking hands, Berwald picked up his phone. He sent a two-word text - _you ok?_ - and waited.

No answer. Tino always answered.

No no _no._


	14. Chapter 14

Berwald stared down at the screen in disbelief, heart pounding.

Maybe it was okay.

Maybe Tino's phone just got screwed up, or they were interviewing witnesses, or something. Everything would be fine, wouldn't it? He'd be okay.

He had to be okay.

Right?

As Berwald looked at the footage on TV, though, he realized that it looked bad. He watched in shock, as his phone sat uselessly in his hands, ominously silent. After several more minutes passed without an answer he got up, and turned off the TV. Watching it wouldn't do any good.

If Tino couldn't come to him, well, then he'd go to Tino. If he was overreacting and Tino was fine they could laugh about it or something. And if he wasn't…

Berwald tried not to think about that.

He focused, instead, on getting there. He had a driver's license, but no car, and the hospital was across town. He'd just opened up his computer and was frantically searching for bus routes that might take him there - it looked like there was one, but it would take him three hours if he made all the transfers in time, and four if he didn't, and even longer to walk, an it was all _too slow_ - when the door opened, and his mother walked in.

"Hi," he said, absently, and resumed searching through the bus maps. There had to be a quicker way of getting there, there _had_ to.

"Berwald! I wasn't expecting to see you here! I thought you usually did stuff on Friday nights."

"Yeah," he answered. He would have said something further, but as he thought about just why he was sitting here on a Friday night looking at bus maps a lump formed in his throat, and he didn't think he'd be able to speak.

She frowned, and he wasn't sure if she was angry or just trying to piece things together. And then an idea occurred to him. It was a long shot, but…

"Mom?" he asked, and took a deep breath. "C'n I borrow the car? Please?"

The frown deepened. "Why?"

"Tino - my friend - got in an accident. Think…" His voice faltered, and he had to swallow to steady it, and not think too much about the words he was saying. "…think he might be hurt bad. Gotta get t' the hospital."

He expected her to say no, that she was planning on going back to the lab and needed it, or something, but to his surprise her face softened. "Was it - they were saying on the radio, something about a school bus-"

He nodded.

She handed him the keys. "Here. Go."

"Thanks."

As he headed out the door, her heard her say, "I hope everything's all right."

He hoped so, too.

* * *

The drive to the hospital was easily the longest thirty minutes of Berwald's life. He drove across town, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his fingers started to ache, one thought echoing through his head:

_Please don't let him…_

He couldn't bear to finish it.

It was crowded when he got there, though he supposed that shouldn't have been a surprise. His classmates clustered in the lobby, along with a whole load of other people he didn't recognize - relatives, maybe, and he spied at least one TV reporter. As he lingered at the edge of the crowd, trying to find the receptionist's desk, he caught the eyes of Al, whose face fell. It was bad, then.

Berwald swallowed, and began making his way through the crowd before anyone could try to speak to him.

He made it to the desk, and forced out, "'M here to see Tino Väinämöinen."

Maybe she would tell him there was no one here by that name. Maybe he'd been discharged already, and gone home. Maybe he was fine.

Instead, she flipped through her paperwork and answered, "Only immediate family are being allowed in right now. Who are you?"

He froze.

One word echoing down the hall saved him. "Family."

He turned to find Tino's mother standing there, and before he had a chance to say anything she took him firmly by the arm and started leading him away. As they walked, she said, "Thank goodness you showed up. His phone got wrecked and I didn't know your number."

She said nothing more, and Berwald's stomach twisted when he realized that he'd never heard her be this quiet before. Even before they stopped in front of a nondescript room, he knew without a doubt that it was bad.

"Honey, before you go in, I need to tell you… it looks kind of scary." She scrubbed her free hand across her face, and he saw that her eyes were red. "They're saying that they think - well, they hope - he'll be okay, but he's in bad shape. He's not awake right now."

She didn't say it, but from the look on her face Berwald guessed he probably wasn't just sleeping. He nodded, trying to keep calm, and followed her inside.

His first thought was that she was right, it did look kind of scary.

Tino looked -

-_dead_.

His face was ashen-pale except for bruising, expressionless as a mask. He had one leg heavily-bandaged, and one arm as well, with tubes hooked up everywhere and a monitor beeping in the background. Above all else, he was completely, utterly still - and even on the rare occasion that Tino was quiet, Tino was never still.

If it hadn't been for the beeping, or the very faint rise and fall of Tino's chest, Berwald would have sworn that he had died. His heart pounded, and he thought his knees might give out. Tino couldn't - he wouldn't - _no_ -

Tino's mother's hold on his arm tightened, just enough to snap him out of it. "It's all right if you don't want to stay," she said gently. "I know it's… not easy to look at."

It wasn't, but there was no way he could leave him. Not like that. Unable to speak, Berwald shook his head, and sank down into a bedside chair. She gave a small smile, took a seat next to him, and carefully picked up Tino's good hand.

Tino didn't react.

They sat like that, silent and unmoving, until Berwald worked up the nerve to ask, "D'they know when he'll…?" _…wake up?_ he wanted to say, but his voice broke before he could.

She shook her head, and softly answered, "No."

Minutes ticked by as they sat there, and nothing changed. It didn't seem possible, Berwald thought, staring unseeingly at the maze of tubes and wires. Tino was always so energetic, always running around or talking or fidgeting or _something_ -

- never like this.

Suddenly, she spoke again. "You mean a lot to him, you know."

He did?

"After his dad left, he had a lot of trouble getting close to people. We had to switch schools because he was having difficulties getting along. I'd never actually met any of his friends until he brought you home with him…and he was different. He was just so _happy_."

Was he?

Berwald blinked, trying to clear suddenly-blurry eyes, and couldn't find the words to reply to her. He looked up, instead, and she patted his hand, gently.


	15. Chapter 15

They sat at Tino's bedside through the night, and the early hours of the morning brought no difference. As the time passed a feeling of dread started to grow in the pit of Berwald's stomach. What if Tino never woke up? What if he - ?

No.

Tino's mother stood, and turned to him with a weary smile. "I'm going to get a cup of coffee. Would you like some?"

Coffee.

Tino.

Before Berwald knew what was happening a messy sob bubbled out of his throat, and the tears that had been welling up all night finally spilled over, and he couldn't do anything to stop them, couldn't do anything except bury his face in his hands and break down. Dimly he realized his face was all wet and he was crying his eyes out in front of someone he barely knew and he didn't even know what to do about it.

Tino's mother crouched down and put her arms around him, but it only made things worse. Berwald froze, and he wanted to say something but he didn't know what to say and what was he supposed to do and if only Tino were awake because Tino _always_ knew what to do and that thought made him cry even more and he couldn't stop and she was still _hugging_ him -

"I know," she murmured, patting him on the back, "I know. It's okay."

He leaned awkwardly against her shoulder and tried like mad to get himself back under control. It felt like it took forever, but he finally managed to pull himself away, swiping at his eyes with his sleeve. "Sorry."

Silently, she handed him a box of tissues from the bedside table, and when he looked up, he saw that her eyes were all wet too.

She squeezed his hand, and stood. "I'll be back in a little while, okay?"

He nodded.

"You can talk to him if you want. No one really knows, but… he might be able to hear it."

Berwald nodded again, and she left. He took the tissues and cleaned off his face, and turned to look at Tino, lying still and pale and silent on the bed.

She'd said that he might be able to hear them.

Maybe.

Gingerly, he picked up Tino's uninjured hand and held it in his own. It was cold, and small, and so fragile…

"Hey," he said hoarsely, and winced at how loud it sounded. He cleared his throat, and was silent a long while before adding, "Y'gotta wake up."

No answer, though Berwald hadn't expected one. Maybe if he kept talking…

"Hopsital's not a very good place for hangin' out. Like your house better. Should hang out again, once y'get out of here. Make you pancakes, if you want." The memories came rushing back to him, of the first time he'd gone over to Tino's and how he'd been so worried and Tino had been so understanding. Tino got him, in a way no one else did. His throat tightened. "Could even put licorice in 'em, though it'd prob'ly taste awful."

He coughed, trying not to lose his voice.

"Gotta wake up first, though. Woulda made you pancakes for breakfast tomorrow if -" He bit his lip. That's right, Tino wouldn't know, couldn't know, because -

Berwald took a deep breath, and blinked away blurry eyes. Tino might be able to hear him. If Berwald was going to talk to him he might as well start from the beginning. "Was gonna tell you somethin'. Somethin' important."

"Wanted to say…" He faltered, trying to find the words, and growled in frustration with himself. He couldn't even think of how to say it _now?_ "Tino…"

His voice trailed off, and broke, and he looked down at Tino's hand resting in his own and tried to keep yet more tears from falling down his face. "Thought I didn' mind bein' alone 'til I met you. C'mon. _Please._"

He gripped Tino's hand just a little more tightly, and wished with everything he had that Tino would just wake up.

"Hey."

Berwald started. Had he just heard - ?

He looked up, hardly daring to hope, and saw Tino's eyes open, just a tiny bit.

_Awake_.

He nearly fell out of his chair. Thank everything ever, he was awake.

Overcome with relief, Berwald was too stunned to even try to think of anything to say to him, and one corner of Tino's mouth twitched in what might have been an attempt at a smile. Slowly, he whispered, "Yer face's…. gonna freeze that way."

Unwilling to let go of Tino's hand, he leaned forward to hide his face against Tino's good shoulder. Berwald couldn't decide if he should laugh or cry, and tried mightily to force down the lump in his throat, to get control over his voice - until finally, finally, the right words slipped out, hoarse and broken and easy as breathing. "Love you."

Faintly, Tino's hand squeezed his own, and Tino whispered an answer to him, so soft he barely heard it. "Love you, too."

* * *

END


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